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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25882969">Please Don't Say You Love Me</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/tallpeachtreechild/pseuds/tallpeachtreechild'>tallpeachtreechild</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The West Wing</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Fluff and Angst</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 10:07:04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>12,603</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25882969</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/tallpeachtreechild/pseuds/tallpeachtreechild</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>She relented, beckoning him inside, telling herself she was only doing it because of that look in his eye, because it was 30 degrees out, because, because, because well, he was Josh. One kiss could not erase years of friendship, nor memories or history. </p><p>A "what if" fic set around season five.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Josh Lyman/Donna Moss</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>41</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>She relented, beckoning him inside, telling herself she was only doing it because of that look in his eye, because it was 30 degrees out, because, because, because well, he was Josh. One kiss could not erase years of friendship, nor memories or history.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Chapter one<br/>
Josh muttered under his breath, trying not to pay attention to the staffers in the hall that must surely be laughing behind his back as he ran through the corridors, out of breath. This Donna situation was starting to become a real problem. For a split second he thought about missing the senior staff meeting, spending the extra minutes with a cup of coffee, a chance to let his mind unwind before the onslaught of political machinations that would surely follow considering the president's schedule. Enviro bill, France trip with an emphasis on NATO, the quick trip to california to talk about gun legislation that would surely fire up the Taylor Reid crowd and then the state of the union which would keep Toby and Will busy for days. </p><p>“Josh!” Caught up in the minute details of the next few weeks Josh had glazed over where exactly he had been running to and had collided with Charlie, who’s books and papers had rained down onto the smooth polished floor of the wing. He bent down to pick up the papers but caught a glimpse of his watch instead.</p><p>“Charlie I’m so sorry I’m- im late for senior staff i've got to go”<br/>
“Yeah yeah-see the game last night?’<br/>
“There was a game last night?” Josh yelled over his shoulder already accelerating out of the hall towards Leo’s office.</p><p>“What did I miss?” he swung into the room to take his seat next to Toby, who diverted his eyes from Leo towards a wayward glance at Josh, expressing a smirk. Next to him Cj smiled at him, in a way that made him feel self conscious that he had stains somewhere on his shirt from last night's coffee.  Tring to avoid her giggles he swerved to face Leo’s desk  where Leo sat,looking up at Josh with a face of disappointment. “I’m really sorry it won't happen again”</p><p>“That's what you said last time. Alright, Toby, Josh,  any substance to the Richardson rumor?”</p><p>“The Richardson Rumor?” questioned Josh, confused. </p><p>“Danny says Richardson is going to put out a statement condemning the Enviro bill for raising taxes and publicly stating his intention to vote no” CJ explained. Her use of Danny Concannon’s first name went ignored, everyone in the room, with the exception of Leo who perhaps did not spend enough time outside of his office or perhaps was just obtuse, knew of their close, though for the most part professional, relationship. Josh remembered thinking how hard it must be for CJ, to always be on the opposite side of the person you felt so strongly for, unable to let down your guard. She seemed to handle it well but the sadness behind her eyes when she talked about him conveyed a different story. Remembering his own problems with Donna he decided that today was not the day to speculate about personal issues. Donna and Danny could wait. There was the Richardson rumor to sort out, whatever that was. With a twinge of guilt that he ignored, the way he had been ignoring those small twinges for weeks, months now, he readjusted. Here was the excuse Josh had been looking for.</p><p>“The president endorsed him last week. It's going to make him look like he doesn't have control of his own congress” Toby spoke calmly but the clenching and unclenching of his hand as he spoke betrayed his true annoyance at the situation.</p><p>“It's a smart move for him, politically” starting, Josh realized what Will implied and turned to face him, swirling his chair as he did because Will, the perpetual outsider, was situated in the back of the office. </p><p> “You think he's going to run?” Will was savvy when it came to predicting campaigns, especially when it came to house or senate races. It was a skill Josh usually possessed although recently he had become too busy to focus on anything but the present. A run from Richardson made sense. He had been in the house for years, leader of the Congressional Black Caucus, a representative from New York with a long established relationship to communities of color. Josh was still weighing the idea when Leo spoke. </p><p>“Josh- Find out how to get Richardson onto this bill. We can't have the Caucus as our enemy right now, especially before the state of the union, we need to show complete party unity.  CJ, tell Concannon we have no comment and focus on the upcoming trip. Toby, Will, focus on the speeches for next week.” Having assigned everyone their task for the day, he stood up from his desk, signaling the end of the meeting. </p><p>“Carol will be doing the briefings for the first few days, Will you can help out if need be.” CJ adjusted her binder, checking her watch. “Toby, Josh, stay as far away from the briefing stand as possible, we don’t want a repeat of the last time.” They both nodded, resigned to the fact that however smart they might pride themselves on being, they had none of the grace or charm required of the press secretary that enabled her to handle whatever the reporters might throw at her. </p><p>“Toby” Cj called to the older man as they all walked towards their offices “Do you have a copy of the speeches for the California Trip? I want to have them ready for when the press ask”</p><p>“We’re sending Russell to California instead, something about the vice president wanting to make an impression there before primary season”. Toby rolled his eyes as he replied, Josh knew he wasn’t the vice president's strongest fan, finding him  the political equivalent of a cardboard cutout.”</p><p>“Speaking of which- I have a meeting with Russel I’m late for” Will  waved at the three senior staff before taking a sharp left towards the direction of Russell's office. Bailey had been taking more and more meetings with the vice president recently, Josh guessed that a move to Russels chief of Staff was imminent.  Toby, Josh, and CJ all continued down the hall. Josh internally sighed, glad he had escaped a conversation in Leo’s office about why exactly he was late for senior staff.</p><p>“Late for senior staff again Josh you should have seen Leo’s face”  CJ teased, </p><p>Josh sighed. His relief had been too premature. He should have known CJ would have a field day- after all he had been late for senior staff three times in the last week,all of the times being due to the fact that Donna was on a protest of sorts wherein she would “forget” to remind him of simple things. </p><p>“Yeah” joined Toby, nothing if not enticed by a mystery. “Why were you late to senior staff anyway? Got a secret girlfriend that entices you away from senior staff meetings by, I don't know, say pouring coffee on your shirt?” </p><p>CJ chuckled as Josh looked down in dismay. </p><p>“Where is the Stain?? I Can't see it!” Josh stammered, turning around in confusion and, by virtue of his confusion, almost running smack dab into Charlie once again. </p><p>CJ and Toby left for their respective offices leading Josh to twist and turn trying to find the stain on his shirt. Donna must have seen it before, when he rushed to senior staff, but she had not said anything about it. Usually she would roll her eyes, make a joke out of it but  in the end  she would have had a new shirt in her arms and known exactly what to do with the old one. She might still do that although, considering she wasn’t speaking to him it might be hard to convince her to take care of his laundry as if he was a five year old boy who had just spilled some soup.  If only he hadn’t been a massive idiot. Maybe it wasn’t too late. He could turn this all around, make everything go back to the way it was, the way they were. Donna as his smart assistant who knew him better than himself, tracking all of the bills, the fiascos, keeping track of information he would have otherwise never remembered, being a sounding board to work out each and every one of his arguments to perfection, even when she already knew said argument by heart. Maybe- just maybe they could go back 7 days ago to a time where Donna sat outside his  office and he stared at her from behind the glass wall and kept up the pretense that it was purely professional, the way he followed her hair as it swung when she walked by, her bright blue eyes crinkling, every word she spoke said in a way that made Josh feel both loved and hated by her at the same time, purely professional. Lost in thought Josh twirled in his chair in his office, clacking his pen. He could hear the clock tick behind him, monotonous. When he was on a roll he hated that clock. It taunted him, dared him to greatness. Every tick was a call to action, a call to action that ignited his political psyche and set him on fire until he could finally come out, having beat the clock for the last time until next time, Victorious, shouting around the office, basking in Donna’s adoring smile, in the President and Leo’s nods of approval, in the knowledge that he had improved someone's life somewhere. All it really took for Josh to achieve anything, he felt, was the ticking of the clock and the sensation of a smile lit upon him, a feeling of pride like no other.</p><p>Now he was indifferent to it.</p><p>“Josh”. The sound of Donna's voice made Josh sit up, shake off the feelings of self loathing and pity.  He took in her expression. Though her voice was friendly his heart sank with the look in her eyes. There would be no silly name calling, no jibes today. Not until he could fix the mess he had started. </p><p>“Leo called.” her words were deliberate, as if she wanted to speak as little as possible to him.  “He wanted to know if you had any luck with Richardson. Apparently Cantwell is threatening his vote too.”</p><p>SItting up in his chair, his thoughts sprung to the task in front of him. While he had been moping the president was relying on him to pass this legislation. After the Carrick situation he was lucky president Bartlet trusted him to speak with any senators. </p><p>“Cantwell too? Get Richardson on the phone, tell him I want a meeting with him as soon as possible. Then call Cantwell's chief of staff, I think her name is”</p><p>“Martha Cutright ” </p><p>“Yea- They'll fold easily, its anyone he might take with him i'm worried about. Bribe them over with a promise to seriously consider that agricultural initiative they’ve been pushing for” Josh was pacing now, clearing his head of any emotional issues he became like a laser, focused on the task at hand. Even Donna could sense his sudden change, although it came as no surprise. Josh was Josh, and focusing on politics beyond the point of reason or self care was what he did. It was why he was named the 101st senator, why his fans called him the political mind of his generation. </p><p>He was half way out of his office, throwing his suit jacket over his shoulder, anxious to get up to hill as soon as possible, when he realized she had not moved from her spot in his doorway to call Cantwell or schedule Richardson. She stood upright, with a look of resolution. Her arms were crossed as if she was protecting herself against a foe, against him, he realized with a jolt. </p><p>“Donna I’m sorry. Let me make it up to you next week, when this bill has passed. I'll take you to that French place you like, that you go to with all of your staunch conservative boyfriends that long to tear the Barlett budget to shreds” He offered, hoping that his lousy joke would diffuse the situation. Donna would give her roll her eyes with a smile and offer a retort somewhere along the lines of “At least I didn't date my opponents chief of staff” a reference to an old campaign story he never should have let slip, and they would fall back in to place and maybe in a week or two or three things would calm down and they would have an opportunity to get settled. </p><p>“10 days Josh. You can’t just- “ Her voice broke off and she started again. “Just-” She steeled herself. Her voice was lower than usual, she advanced towards him. </p><p> She wanted to yell at him, tell him all the things he couldn't do, that he couldn't kiss her in his office five feet away from where a reporter in the New York Times was waiting for an interview, he  couldn't give her hope ,that the pages and pages of the diary she had since thrown away had been worth it, that letting Cliff Calley, Cliff Calley of all people read excruciating details about her thoughts was worth it, but of course he could and he had and here she was, floundering for the right words. </p><p>“Keep your voice down” Josh pressed and within seconds he realized he had said the wrong thing, the worst thing he had possibly ever said. Donna winced, physically started back, as if the words had stung her. For a second she looked like she was going to cry but it passed and there was a face of stone, which cracked open to laugh. </p><p>The laugh was so unlike Donna that it burned in Josh's chest.</p><p>“God when Mandy warned me that you were all a bunch of Clinton democrats I didn’t think she meant it so literally” There were words unspoken in the statement, an accusation. Maybe you kissed me for the thrill, for the power, kissing your assistant.  It was the utter Indictment, that it meant nothing. Donna was just a woman he had used and exploited. He wanted to yell back, he wanted to explain. A beast in his chest was threatening to spill out exactly how much she meant to him, how much it all meant. Instead he said nothing. </p><p>She waited. Still he could not think of how to express it. He had always been shit with this part. It was as if somewhere along the way he had missed out on the vital classes. How to start a relationship. How to end one. How not to get very very tired and accidentally but maybe not so accidentally kiss your assistant. How to tell your assistant you're in love with her.  He could tell Donna, off the top of the bat, the percentage of rural Americans likely to vote for Jed Barlet, broken down by race, age, and gender. He could not tell Donna what she wanted to hear. And even as the right words churned in his brain, as he formulated a plan, an image appeared in his mind, large. The front of the New York times. Deputy Chief of staff with top aide. That’s if they were lucky, and the Bartlet administration could not and should not count on luck from the press. Josh Lyman in an affair with his assistant. It would ruin her career. It would ruin his career. It would ruin her career.</p><p>He said nothing.</p><p>She turned around, quiet. “I’ll get to that call with Cutright then.” the echo of her shoes as she walked away resounded in his ears, a final censure of him. He closed his eyes, only for a second before the phone rang. It always rang. </p><p>“Hi, Mr. Senator, yes I was wondering if I could have a moment to talk to you about your plans?”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This is my first ever fancfic so feel free to leave constructive criticism! I will be posting one chapter a day I think depending on how long they take to edit</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>For all the Republican’s frenzied diatribes on government spending they sure did like to splurge on air conditioning.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is somewhat of a longer chapter but I decided it's necessary to have- things will pick up a bit more in chapter 3. Once again comments and constructive criticism are appreciated.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Senator we are in a very precarious position here if you would just abstain from casting a vote and that way the republicans won’t blast you and we can pass the bill without any uproar” He tried his best to look earnest, pliable, respectful. He remembered what Leo always said. Charm would get you a hell of a lot farther than anything else in Washington, even bribery. Still, his voice sounded exasperated and impatient. It was the same from Richardson everytime. His eyes darted around the room, typical for a Senator's office.The big desk, with framed photos of loved ones and legislative papers piling over, the heavy chair and dark window coverings. Textbook. He cut the senator off mid sentence, desperate to get this over with, to finally have some good news.</p><p>“Josh, I'm not looking to run for president.” The words caught him by surprise. Usually when senators with good reputations said those words they were lying, badly. Richardsons voice was clear, assertive. He stood up from his desk, stretching his legs.</p><p>“Then why are you abstaining from the energy bill” He could not keep the exasperation out of his voice now. He wanted this to be over goddamnit! He just had to do this one thing, the one simple task. He needed sleep, he needed coffee, he needed Donna, he needed for Richardson to stop whatever stunt he was going to pull and stand with the administration. He needed five fucking seconds of good news.</p><p>“It’s not enough Josh. This is a poor bill and you know it. Climate change is sweeping the country and it’s affecting communities of color first. You know it and I know it so why is there nothing in the bill acknowledging it ? Time after Time the Bartlet administration has ignored racial issues in this country.”</p><p>Josh tried to cut him off but Richardson stormed on, his voice dynamic. Josh understood his political charm. He exuded confidence and power, brilliance and capability.</p><p>“I want a resolution acknowledging the damage it does to lower income people of color, the people that live in my district. That's all I'm asking. Policy wise it's not much but it will get the media talking, get people's mind whirring.”</p><p>“We do that it will hold up the bill for weeks,” Josh deflected. In the back of his mind he knew that Richardson was in the right on this but he pushed his ethics aside. Working in the white house had taught him that was right was not often feasible. “With all due respect Senator this bill is going to pass whether you vote no or not. You want us to hold on the first bill of this legislative session for a statement that-”</p><p>Richardson interrupted him.</p><p>“This might not be important to the administration Josh but it's important to me. And It's important to the Black voters that I represent and the Black voters all across America. When I publicly condemn the Bartlet administration for its failure to address racial issues in this country, and I will, your administration will have bigger issues than this environmental bill.” He was sitting now, with a look of assurance on his face, waiting for Josh's next move. A national forum on the administration's handling of race in the country only two weeks before the state of the union… Toby and the speechwriters would go ballistic. There was no strong arming to be done. He could not threaten lack of presidential support or promise a new social program. He had defeated, it was time to wave the white flag.</p><p>“Alright sir. I understand. I'll talk to the president about it.” Josh rose from his chair, gathering his papers. The senator stood up as well, straightening his suit and leading Josh to the door. The two shook hands and Josh walked out into the marble senate hallway, always so cold and echoing.</p><p>“I go live at 12 tomorrow Josh” the senator called after him. Josh shifted back.</p><p>“I understand Senator”. He pivoted back and walked towards the exit as fast as he could. He hated this building, with its frigidness that seemed to reach in his bones and touch his heart. For all the Republican’s frenzied diatribes on government spending they sure did like to splurge on air conditioning. Donna always laughed at him when he complained about the cold, declaring that it felt just fine to her. Wisconsinites, he supposed. All those bits about dairy and proximity to Canada. They had to have some type of internal thermometer more tolerant to the icy winter. Maybe it was activated from all of that mozzarella they ate. “It's the most popular cheese in Wisconsin and across the nation Josh” he heard her voice chiding him after he had spurned the mozzarella sticks at the Hawk and Dove.</p><p>Donna was not in when Josh got back to his office .He looked for a note but there was only a post it on his desk, reading “out” in her familiar, loopy, handwriting. He sat down in his chair and swiveled, gazing at his office but taking nothing in. Think. Think. His political brain began to monopolize. This was it. The one thing he could control.</p><p>“DONNA” he shouted, then remembered she was not out there. He graded his briefcase and half ran half walked to the oval, ignoring the staffers in the hallway. He stopped at Debbie's desk panting a bit, his mind whirring. Nervous energy flowed out of him like a second sweat. Debbie, for her part, remained unphased.</p><p>“He’ll be out in 5”. Josh slumped for a second and then began to pace around the waiting room, ignoring Debbie's increasingly louder sighs of exasperation. This had to be the longest five minutes he had ever experienced. Debbie had one of those cat clocks that moved its eyes every second only now, thought Josh, its eyes were barely moving. Maybe it wasn't working right. He resisted the urge to ask her and turned from the desk to stare at the wall instead.</p><p>“For gods sake” Debbie burst and she pressed the intercom button. “ Josh Lyman to see you”. Dourly she looked at Josh. “the President will see you now”</p><p>“Debbie, you're a goddess,'' Josh's voice rang out as he crossed the threshold to the oval office. “Mr. President '' Josh began before realizing that Leo was also in the room, by the briefing books laid out in front of them with green coverings it was evident they had been discussing foriegn policy.</p><p>“Well do come in Josh I hope it's important”</p><p>“Is this about Richardson?” questioned Leo. “What did he want”. Josh explained the substance of his meeting on the hill, including the congressman’s reason for the press conference. When he finished Leo looked furious. The president was serene. It was as Leo had said on one of the first days of the job in the office. You never knew which issues would incite the man to God's wrath and which he would handle measured and tranquil.</p><p>“How could he do this to us two weeks before the State of the Union? He’s always been like this but a national forum on race in this country two weeks before the president announces a legislative agenda with very little focus on civil issues-”</p><p>“Leo” interrupted the president, Turning to Josh. “ You wouldn’t have come in here for just that.”</p><p>“Richardson’s right.” Josh advanced coming to stand in the middle of the office and waving his hands as if that would help get his point across. He had to get his point across. This had to make sense. “About the bill.”</p><p>This type of response was to be expected from Toby, ever the idealist, not from him. Perhaps the other man had guided his thinking. Maybe, just this one time, the right thing to do and the smart thing to do would be the same thing.</p><p>“We, we,- “ He started again “Richardson’s right we-” He could not think of how to put into words. The answer was clear, it was not exactly complicated, but his brain felt frizzed to the point of breaking. He sat down.</p><p>“We put out a joint press conference with Richardson condemning the failure of this bill to address racial inequalities. “</p><p>“It will pull away from the State of the Union message” Leo interrupted but Josh went on. He stood up, then sat down.</p><p>“ We make the focus race but we make it how committed we are to address it. We gain Black supporters and goodwill from the Congressional Black Caucus. We force moderates to quickly pass the resolution otherwise it’ll make them look like-” he wanted to say something smart and elegant. it would make the voters see the moderates as too spineless to confront racism, make them seem like they didn’t care about the people of color they represented. Instead all he said was “Bad”. He finished limply. It would make them look like bad. He was talking like a 13 year old girl. He meant to carry on, to explain. He had to explain. The president had to understand what he meant.</p><p>Leo stopped him.</p><p>“ With all due respect Josh I think it's a bad move. You don;t know where this could go. The Republicans could accuse you of making this a stunt. Better to-”</p><p>“No, NO- Leo you don't understand.” He had stood up again. They had to get it. He turned to face the president. Vaguely in the back of his mind he could feel his knee trembling. Why was they trembling like that? “This is our chance, this is it. We get to do the right thing. ‘ His voice rose louder than it should have, he could hear it yet was powerless to stop it. “We get to do the right thing” his voice was even louder. Why was he repeating himself? His knee was still trembling. He felt ill.</p><p>“Josh” Leo began, but the president stopped him, rising from his chair to stand over Josh.</p><p>“Joshua you are not well” the president chided. His face looked sadly at the younger man he considered akin to a son. His face was more wrinkled than it had been 5 years ago, his hair was further back. These were the obvious physical changes, a stranger could spot them from simply comparing two different photos of the man. But Jed Bartlet was not a stranger to the man. After Rossyln Josh had slept less. He began seeing a therapist, then stopped, announcing that “he wasn’t a quack”. He started again. He took fewer personal days (not that had taken very many before) and smiled less, often reserving his smile for Donna. Of course they had all noticed, had shared concerned glaces, little gestures, but they turned a blind eye, pretending they did not see when he forgot to eat lunch, or spilled coffee on his pants that were two sizes too big for him.</p><p>“Mr. President, I'm fine. I think I didn’t explain it well the first time if I could just-”</p><p>“You explained it perfectly well. I think it's a grand idea-” anticipating Leo’s objection the President shot his friend a look. They could weigh the matter of the plan later. What was important now was Josh. “Toby can handle this since it deals with communications alright-”</p><p>“No.” Josh’s voice rose, he was not shouting but he was not exactly calm either “I can do this Mr. President. You have to trust me” He stood, pacing. He was cognizant that he was making a mistake but he could not stop himself. “Mr President I cannot fulfill the duties of my job if every two seconds-” Now he was really shouting. “If every two seconds I am being sent to the sidelines, so that someone else with less understanding can take over my responsibilities”. All of the things he had wanted to say since Angela Blake had arrived had burst out. Suddenly he was aware of his surroundings, of who he had just yelled at. All of the air went out of him. His stance, which had before appeared aggressive, now appeared foolish and insipid.</p><p>The President said nothing.The silence stretched on and on, the only noise was of the distant ring of Debbies telephone. Josh wanted to say something, to take it back. Instead the two men stood in silence until the President spoke.</p><p>“Are you quite finished” he frowned, coming to sit in his chair, peering into Josh's eyes in a way that made Josh feel as if the president was peering into his very soul.</p><p>“Yes sir” He waited for a verbal rebuke but none came.</p><p>“Joshua when was the last time you slept”</p><p>“I feel fine”. That was a lie but he brushed it off. It was not lack of sleep that made him feel this way, he had just slept well- not last night but certainly the night before that- except that had been the night of the French embassy protest- He was certain that he had taken a nap at some point.</p><p>“When was the last time you slept” The President roared, his voice a thunderstorm.</p><p>“I took a nap yesterday” His voice petered out at the end of the sentence, realizing how foolish it sounded. The president said nothing, simply “Hmphed” and kept looking at Josh. Under the long stare of the President he felt like a petulant child. He imagined this was what being called into the principal's office felt like. Not that he would know.</p><p>“Go home Josh” It was Leo who spoke, moving from his position in the back of the office as an observer to stand beside the President.</p><p>A part of him wanted to argue, but he recognized that he had probably argued enough in the last seven minutes to last him 3 more years in the White House. He nodded and stood again, slowly.</p><p>“Thank you Mr. President”. He departed the office, but ignored the main exit. He did not feel like going home. He knew on an intellectual level that he needed sleep, he could feel the heaviness of his body pressing down on him as he walked, but he was not ready to give in to it yet. The energy that had so pushed him had been left in the oval but he was not yet ready to think about why he had focused so much on the bill. If he slept he would be energized, alert. He would have to think about his feelings .If he stayed like this, well then.</p><p>Besides, he did not want to go home. His home was dark and empty. He had scarcely spent more than a few minutes there in the last 5 years. He had never had the time to decorate it, although when he had been shot and Donna had visited she had nagged him about hiring someone to fix it up “Just one painting here or there” she pleaded, taking pride that she had taken three days off during the transition to fully move in and decorate her apartment. When he was very very tired and it had been hours since she let him talk to CJ or Sam he would push her on it and she would get huffy, standing up from the bed to declare “At least I am not a 40 year old man with a bachelor pad. Really Josh, nothing but beer in your entire fridge”. When Amy had almost lived there she had spruced up the place a bit, although maybe not it a style Josh would have preferred (not that she cared very much about his opinions on curtains. Or on anything.). But now Amy had gone and Dona wasn’t speaking to him and he had never truly had the time to get the apartment decorated and it was filled with Amy’s boxes, ugly curtains and thousands of other things that just served to remind Josh of his absolute and total failure of any semblance of a personal life.</p><p>His thoughts strayed as his feet guided him by habit back to his office, although he had no real reason to be there. He was restless. His office was devoid of anything to focus on. He thought about going out for lunch but it was three already and besides he wasn’t that hungry. His thoughts, as they always did when he was tired, circled back to Donna and he was powerless to stop them. He could barely keep his eyes from closing, let alone form a coherent thought. Words, jumbled fragments of thoughts came to him, but they made no sense. She was the only thing clear. She would know what to do. He needed a second chance, at this point it might be a third. He had made up his mind and with that he walked out the door of his office. Turned left, then right, then left again, he could not remember where he was going, out into the brisk January air.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“I'll tell them your roommate went psycho again, with the, the cats and the boxes” He had remembered the story she had told him, but not well enough to remember that the roommate had left shortly after and Donna had vowed to have no more roommates.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Donna had taken three personal days in as many years. One when her psycho roommate had tried to move all of her things out of her apartment. One when her mother had flown from Wisconsin to see her, and today. It felt strange, lying around the house with nothing to do. Her mind was so accustomed to the White House way of life that she couldn’t stop listening for the ring of a phone. Any moment now Josh would call her with an emergency, begging her to return to the office. She would put up a fight but eventually she would go in and help with whatever national crisis he had started and just for a second he would look at her in a way that made it all worth it, all the late nights and the early mornings and the lack of a personal life.  And the other things, the secret hopes and wishes that she had harbored, well, that look would make them worth it too. </p>
<p>God how could she have been so stupid. Josh and her had flirted, they  had always flirted but that was their policy, well established since the early days of the campaign. He flirted with anyone and everyone, you were foolish if you thought that a little Josh Lyman flirting was symptomatic of any romantic feelings. She used to laugh with him about it, joking that he hardly needed her to set up any of his meetings on the hill since half of the assistants in the building were already enamoured with him. It was something about his charm, she thought. Of course he was very smart and witty but what brought the whole package together was his lightness on his feet, rushing around you, smiling the whole while, making you feel that his smile was only for you. You must have said something really smart or interesting to deserve that grin. But of course if wit and charm were all that drew her to Josh her crush would have remained just that, a crush, and faded into oblivion when she realized all his flaws. She had tried at first to pretend that was all it was. She refused to write about him in her diary, telling herself it would be silly to write about such an insignificant feeling. And then he had been shot, and her heart almost collapsed, and then she knew that it could not possibly be just a crush because she was almost certain that one did not feel the way she had felt when she heard the news for a crush, like her heart had bottomed out and she could no longer stand upright without help. And there was Cliff Calley and Jack Reese and they were argumentative and smart and handsome and that was almost enough to forget that they weren't Josh. She tried over and over again to ignore it, to remind herself that he did not feel the same way. He was an Ivy league educated senior official to the president. He dated Washington insiders. Amy, Joey, Mandy were all in his political league. She was not. But then there would be that look.  And she would fall all over again. </p>
<p>And was it really so wrong that a little piece of her still held out hope? He had thrown snowballs at her window and yelled at her neighbors. He had taken her to eight inaugural balls. He had stared at her from his window when he thought she couldn't see him and given her presents for their anniversary. When he had kissed her in that office it had seemed, if only for a moment that he felt the same way, that they were on the edge of a cliff together, about to jump off. It was why she had kissed him back. Stupid stupid stupid. </p>
<p>She took a shower, hoping that the hot water would clear her head. Instead it made her even more muddled. She stood facing the shower head for a long time. She did not feel like crying, she did not want to cry over Josh Lyman, she had already taken a personal day off for him, she refused to give the man another satisfaction.Still, she felt glued to the ground, letting the water wash over her. She wanted to want to smack him in the face. She wanted to want to play girly pop music and jump on the bed and scream at the top of her lungs. She wanted to hate him. But she didn't want to do any of those things. Trying to salvage the mess she thought that at least a personal day meant at least 12 hours without pantyhose. She found in her wardrobe exactly the perfect outfit for a day that was shaping up to be miserable and pulled on a worn pair of soft shorts and her very loved University of Wisconsin sweatshirt. She would make herself something to eat, then maybe watch some TV. She had not had much time for any television besides CSPAN in years. She wondered vaguely if Friends was still on, she had watched it as an undergrad in her dorm what felt like a lifetime ago. She was just about to pull up the TV guide when there was a thud on her window and then a yell. </p>
<p>“DONNNAAA” She cursed at Josh, loudly, though there was no one to hear her. “DONNNAA” she knew the only way to shut him up was to go out there and see what he wanted. All she asked for was one day without him, just one day without his overbearing presence dictating everything that she did, everything that she thought. She stormed down her stairs to the front of her building.</p>
<p>“This routine is unsurprisingly less charming the second time-” the words died in her throat when she saw him. He was pale and his hair was a mess. He looked disoriented and unfocused. Still. That didn’t mean she wasn’t mad.  </p>
<p>“What do you want” It came out harsher than she had intended and she felt a sudden burst of guilt for the tone. </p>
<p>He stammered. “Can I Come in?”</p>
<p> This was not going to be like it was with Tom. She was not the type of girl to be run all over. Not again.</p>
<p>“Its freezing Donna please I just want to talk.” </p>
<p>“What if the press sees?” she deflected.</p>
<p>“I'll tell them your roommate went psycho again, with the, the cats and the boxes” He had remembered the story she had told him, but not well enough to remember that the roommate had left shortly after and Donna had vowed to have no more roommates.</p>
<p>“I Don't have a roommate anymore.” They stood, neither speaking, as if afraid to break the wall of cold winter air buffeting between them. They were at an impasse. Donna was acutely aware of the cold. Her legs and arms were shivering and unprotected. The sweatshirt she was wearing, although very soft, did nothing to stop the brisk air from hitting her in the chest. She looked over Josh, his arms crossed against the wind.He looked exhausted.  On the outside and to the hundreds of gossip reporters, congressmen, and political fixers he was still Joshua Lyman, 101st Senator, but she was the look of desperation, the sadness he tried so hard to hide. She relented, beckoning him inside, telling herself she was only doing it because of that look in his eye, because it was 30 degrees out, because, because, because well, he was Josh. One kiss could not erase years of friendship, nor memories or history. <br/>They entered the apartment in silence. Donna could not think of what to say, whether to yell or worry, or both. He walked slowly in and she gestured to the couch, still silent. He sat down but said nothing. His eyes stared straight ahead and Donna could tell he was at work in his mind running through every possible scenario. Every possible scenario of what? What had possessed him to leave work early and throw snow at her window? What had he wanted to say? Hope flared in her chest again. She dismissed it, pushed it down to the recesses of her heart where she put everything that was better to not think of. With a start she realized she had been standing over the side of the couch, watching him.  She moved to the kitchen, setting water on to boil, anything to keep her hands busy, to keep her busy. </p>
<p>“Tea?” her voice sounded foriegn even to her, as if coming from far away.</p>
<p>“Hmmm?”  She could not hear the rest of his reply but she knew he would drink some if she made it because she knew everything about Josh. His expressions, his quirks, how you could tell how much sleep he got by how much sweetener he put in his coffee. She knew everything about him except what really mattered. So she doubled the amount of water and grabbed two tea bags, drumming her nails on the table while she waited for the kettle to boil. When the tea was ready she poured it into mugs and went out to the living room.</p>
<p>“Josh” she called, walking over to where he had been sitting in thought. He was no longer up though, instead he was slumped back on the couch, his eyes closed. Donna’s heart raced with fear. She set down the two mugs, not caring where they spilled. What if this was from the bullet. What if his heart had gone limp. She could barely breathe. She held her hand to his heart, praying for a beat. Was that her heart beating or his? She could not tell. She took a deep breath and tried again. Thump- Thump. Thump-thump. She relaxed, relieved. He was just asleep. Of course he was just asleep. Taking a few deep breaths she sat down on the couch next to him, watching the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest, listening to the sound of his breath. In out. In out. She studied the wrinkles in his brow, the specks of grey that had begun to dot his red hair. She knew intellectually that Josh was older than her, liked to tease him about it on his birthdays, but he had never seemed that much over, always bouncing around, teasing her. She had seen his body when the senior staff played basketball together, he was in good shape. Looking at him splayed on her couch, ensconced in a suit much too big for him, he suddenly seemed his age again, as if the facade of youth had lifted to reveal a much more wearried individual.  For a moment she indulged in a fantasy of the moment, of Josh asleep on her couch, Josh sleeping besides her, relaxed, together. She wouldn't have to steal glances of him, or over analyze his touch on the small of her back. She would have all the time in the world to look him over, to watch him sleep. Now she felt rushed, trying to remember this moment as quickly as possible as if any second now he would start up from his sleep and the second would pass. She watched him sleep for a bit, until it was clear to her that he was not going to wake up at any second. She sat on the couch beside him, scared to move too much, thinking, her thought alternating between fondness towards Josh and then anger, until her eyes also began to flutter shut. It occurred to her, in the haze of tiredness that she had not slept in days, between work and worry she was out of bed pacing more than she was in it and sleeping. She left herself to forget about Josh, forget about the White House, and everything that had brought her there until all that she could feel was the tick of the clock, and the warmth of the couch below her.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>As always comments+ criticism appreciated</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>In the day that followed he had wavered, trying to discern what Donna had meant to say, why she had stopped, why she had kissed him back. He made a mental list in his mind, something to help sort it out. Donna and me kissing in the office. Me and Donna, in the office. He meant to talk to her, to tell her, and he had made up his mind to do it today, right now, when Toby came in to talk about the banking regulation bill.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Josh awoke slowly, his eyes fluttering open. Half awake half asleep it was another few moments before he began to take in his surroundings. He yawned, sitting upwards from his position on Donna’s Couch. His position felt natural, as if sleeping on Donna's couch was something he did all the time. In reality it had only happened a few times. Once after a particularly bad date he had gone to her house, ready to confess how he truly felt, until he had chickened out, gotten distracted by the cats (they were named after singers! Her favorite singers!), mumbled on about Leo and the president, and finally passed out on the couch. Sinking into familiarity with the soft blue cushions it was another few seconds before he remembered why he was here this time. Looking around he had to squint. Outside the light was quickly fading and the apartment was filled with shadows. He could not tell if the shadow he saw in the corner was one of her cats or simply a figment of his imagination. Faint light emanated from the kitchen casting a soft glow onto the rest of the apartment. How long had he been asleep? He turned and yawned as his hand caught on Donna. She was still asleep on the couch, her breath moving in and out, her hair fanning out behind her. She was curled up small, as if in a protective stance. He froze, then slowly relaxed as he realized that she had not woken up from his movement. He tried to piece together what had happened in his mind. He was exhausted. He had decided to have it out with Donna. She had been mad, shivering in the freezing cold in nothing but a sweatshirt and short pajama bottoms on her stoop until she had let him in, still unwilling to speak. He had sat down and then. Nothing. His body had collapsed from sheer exhaustion. It had happened a few times, on the first campaign, after Rosslyn, after Zoe's kidnapping, but always in his own bed. Donna must have sat down next to him, waiting for him to wake up, until she eventually fell asleep too. With a burst of self consciousness seriously unbecoming for a man aging towards fifty  he wondered if he had snored in his sleep. Something about Donna made him hyper aware of his body, as if he was 15 years old again, the youngest in his class and just out of a growth spurt, unsure of how to move his arms or legs, what to say or do. There were two mugs of tea on the coffee table, he grabbed one instinctively only to find out it was now cold. Still he drank it, gazing over at Donna. In the faint light it was hard to see her face, but the image of her slight freckles running lightly across her nose to dip down to her neck was seared in his memory. He could bring up the exact image of how her face might look in his mind. He sat for a bit, taking her in, the shape of her body expanding and condensing as her breath moved in and out. It felt strangely intimate, to see her so relaxed, her usual composure falling away. He could not help feeling strange, as if he was violating her privacy by seeing her like this, and he tried to look away. The apartment was quickly descending into complete darkness, save the flickering kitchen light. Squinting, he found a nearby lamp and switched it on. He did not want to turn the overhead light on and run the risk of waking Donna. He could not help but to glance back at her, feeling guilty as he looked at the way her sweatshirt, clearly two or three sizes too big clung to her legs, almost obscuring the small cotton shorts she had on.He looked away again, then looked back at her legs, stretched out on the couch. It felt wrong to look at her like this when she couldn’t even see her, like violating some sort of gentleman's code of conduct. So he grabbed the cold tea of the table and sat in the silence of the apartment, forcing himself to drink the cup, hoping the caffeine would turn him instantly into a man, the type of guy who was suave and smart with girls, who made plans on time, someone with some sort of intellect and an ability to convey to Donna just exactly why he had kissed her.</p><p>It was not like he had meant to. There was no list on his Tuesday agenda that said kiss Donna today. Not that he would know if there was, Donna was the one with the agendas and lists, although he had gotten better at it in the intermittent years, driven by a feeling of guilt. It had been late, or at least that’s what he had told himself after, when she had left him sitting in the dark, unable to think of anything else.</p><p>“Josh” She had come into his office pouting, plopping down on the unused chair, spinning around. “It’s 7:50.” he looked up, pausing from the brief he was in the middle of skimming through to see her draped against the chair, arms crossed, looking at him disgruntled but with a small smile that let him know that she was not actually mad, at least not yet.</p><p>“So?”</p><p>“So you promised we could get out of here by 7. I have a date tonight that i've called off three times now-</p><p>“Clive?”</p><p>“James Roebury”</p><p>Josh rolled his eyes trying to avoid the familiar jealous twinge that hit him whenever Donna brought up whatever political operative she was seeing. “Cafferty’s aide?”</p><p>“Collins. And he's not his aide he's the deputy chief of staff I'll have you know”</p><p>“Didn’t know you were interested in Deputy chiefs of staffs” He said it lightly, had meant for it to seem lighthearted, but there was a waver in his voice, an underlying bitterness he could not keep out. The words clung in the air, seemingly suffocating him. He waited for her to laugh it off, to let the words wash away, only to be remembered much later in his bed as he berated himself for saying anything at all, for feeling anything at all. The part of his heart not ensnared by the stupidities of sense and intellect longed desperately for her to understand what he had meant, it felt a sense of urgency; she must understand what the so called joke truly meant, she could not laugh it off. He could not go on the two parts of his body constantly in conflict, wanting, no, needing her to know how he felt yet unwilling to tell her. To ruin everything they had would be the worst thing of all. Better to let feelings fester, in hidden shadows and the darkest hours of the night. </p><p>Donna smiled at him, a sad smile that did not reach her eyes, which were staring right at him and making Josh feel like she could see right through him. He felt unnerved, unable to look away. They sat like that for what seemed like hours. A part of his mind told him it had to end eventually but he was afraid to let go, could not let go. </p><p>“The New York Times guy is still waiting outside.” She broke concentration, busying herself with the papers in her hand, refusing to look at his face. He sat, staring at her for a few more seconds, then grudgingly shifted back to the papers, acutely aware of the feeling of heat on his cheeks that <br/>were reddening by the second. He could not think of what reporter Donna was referencing, could not even remember what the New York Times was.</p><p>“You promised him a quote on Iranian Sanctions in exchange for holding off on the Haslav Story. He’s been out there since this morning” They stood up in tandem, Donna still avoiding his eyes. He walked slowly, now despising the idea of letting her leave the room, letting the moment pass him by. Holding off as long as he could he reached for the door handle but her hand over his stopped him. Her light touch tensed his entire body .Every nerve on his body was alert, although for what he did not know.</p><p>“Your ties untied” She spoke in an amiable tone, though slightly forced, as if she had been meaning to say something else but had thought better of it at the last second. She reached up, her fingers deftly straightening and tightening his tie, still refusing to look him in the eyes. She was only inches away, he could feel her breath on his face. She had done this millions of times before, for state dinners and black tie dinners. It was the only time she was close to him in a professional setting and he kept the memory of her adjusting his bowtie close to him as a  sort of twisted consolation prize.  His breath caught in his throat and vaguely he thought his brain might be short circuiting for he could not think of anything by Donna. Reason, logic were nowhere to be found, he was acutely aware of the sigh of her breath, the smell of her perfume, of vanilla and some type of tropical scent he could not name. </p><p>She finished her adjusting but did not pull away. Her hands were resting lightly on his chest, he felt burned where they touched.  She looked up at him, just for a second. His heart beat in his chest, he was surprised it had not burst already, and he could hear, faintly, the sound of her heart beat, pulsing in rhythm. Her golden hair flared in his eyes and he closed the gap between them in one fell swoop. And it was different, so different than he had imagined but so much better because she was kissing him back, deeply and he had grabbed her face and was cupping it in his hands. Her hands reached to his head and she held to the curls on his neck, then moved her hands down his back. He drank her in greedily, like a man without water, hardly believing that she herself was not a mirage, that any second now she would dissipate into mist. He knew he had to let go but he was unwilling to break the kiss, especially now her hands, her hands had started running up and down his back and his hands too, as if controlled by their own magnetic force were snaking up and down her body, touching more of her, even more, her hair between his fingers, her waist, the feeling of her hips, her ass. He wanted to be even closer, pressed himself against her;  There was a knock at the door. They broke apart instantly, like two magnets repelling. Josh's eyes darted around the room, his heart thumping, looking for something, anything to look at that was not the person standing in front of him. Donna on her part was flushed as red as a tomato, adjusting back into place her hair, her skirt, then self consciously touching at her face. Who the fuck knocked at the door? Josh thought irritability. Senior staff just came right on in and anyone else would have made an appointment. </p><p>“Rick Cooper from the New York TImes” </p><p>The new york times guy? THE NEW YORK TIMES GUY? That's who had interrupted what possibly might have been the best moment of his year, no, his entire life? Slobbering Rick Cooper with his too skinny ties and slicked back hair, who chased after half assed stories like a dog with his own tail, priding himself as the next Danny Connacanon  although without the wit, dedication, or grace, without really, Josh thought, any redeemable quality. </p><p>He looked at Donna, hoping to convey a face that said all the things that the kiss had meant. Instead his eyes bugged out and his mouth hung open, at a loss. Donna, sweet, smart, witty Donna, moved to the back of the room, as if she was only there to file some papers that he had left on his desk. Her gaze was dropped and if Josh was a smarter man, the type of man to be instinctive about these things, he would have noticed the tears that had formed on the inside corners of her eyes. But Josh was not that man, Josh was well, Josh, and she skillfully wiped them away as she rustled through papers, determined to present to Conner a tableau of casual professionalism.</p><p>“Look I’m sorry “ He said, in a voice that did not seem sorry at all “but I’ve been waiting for this statement all day-” He stopped mid sentence as Josh opened the door with a grimace. A better man than him would have thrown Rick out of the office, slammed the door in his face and went back to Donna. Josh was not a better man, he was barely a man. He was a political operative, the best of the best. He could not let Donna, or anyone, or anything, distract him from his true mission, that of operating under the will of the president. He had been too close to losing it all with the Angela Blake situation to feel comfortable risking it again. Anyways. That’s what he had decided his psyche must have told him that moment, for there was no other logic for why he had opened the door and let Rick Cooper in, why he had waved Donna outside, with only a parting grimace, sitting him down and detailing exactly what the president’s latest speech meant for the sanctions. </p><p>In the day that followed he had wavered, trying to discern what Donna had meant to say, why she had stopped, why she had kissed him back. He made a mental list in his mind, something to help sort it out. Donna and me kissing in the office. Me and Donna, in the office. He meant to talk to her, to tell her, and he had made up his mind to do it today, right now, when Toby came in to talk about the banking regulation bill. After his meeting with Heydrich then he would, except that there was an earthquake in Salt Lake City, the very first one since 1847 and could Josh coordinate with FEMA while CJ planned the president’s trip? And once FEMA was set up the president needed him for a few minutes could he stop by? And a few minutes turned into an hour lecture on the native wildlife of the plains country and was there any senator in Kansas that needed our help because the Cedar Bluff State Park was quite beautiful this year and they could take a detour there one of the days to soak in the plains. </p><p>Of course he could have made the time. He was the Deputy White House Chief of staff, he could have found the time. Then again, anyone remotely close to the man could tell you that he never found time for anything, not to brush his hair or buy new suits, or go to therapy, or see his mother more than twice a year, He never found time, it simply appeared in his schedule and he would use it to do the first thing that came into his head, which was usually to go to a bar and sometimes to email his mother because she was lonely in the winter, abandoned by all of her friends who migrated to Florida for the warmth.</p><p>“Josh?” Donna had woken up and was pushing herself up from her horizontal position into a vertical one, straightening up her back and crossing her arms. She screwed her face into, well, if not an outright scowl, a very peeved look, although the general effect was alleviated by the fact <br/>that her blonde hair was still disheveled from sleeping on the couch and it surrounded her head in a messy sort of halo. </p><p>“Hey”. apprehensive, he fidgeted with the mug of cold tea he was still holding and waited for her to speak.</p><p>“Why are you here?”  He could tell she was looking at him and he kept his head down. </p><p>“When a mommy and daddy love each other very much-”</p><p>“Josh- her voice became higher,the sharpness of it was unmistakable now “Why are you here?” </p><p>He said nothing. The room seemed even darker than before and Donna seemed far away, so very far away, as if the darkness had snuck in between them when he was not looking and now there was an expanse between them.</p><p>“Stop acting like a toddler and explain why, exactly, you are here, wasting my one personal day, that, may I remind you I took specifically to get away from you, or, or, or get out of my apartment Josh.”</p><p>“I came here to apologize for- for you know and say. Sorry” He looked her in the eyes now, with his puppy dog eyes and his throat caught on the words. His look was one of such apprehension that she softened instantly, she couldn’t help it. </p><p>“It’s fine Josh” It was a lie but it was a lie she could live with for right now. He had come to her apartment to apologize. He didn’t mean it. She could pretend to let it go. They could go back to just being friends. She told herself it would be fine, but she could not stop her voice from betraying her and her next words came out with a tremor.  “You were obviously very tired and so was I and we made a mistake so-</p><p>“I didn't mean for it to be a mistake”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This is probably my favorite chapter and I hope u guys like it too! As always leave comments on ANYTHING I can work on/improve</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>He wouldn’t risk losing this feeling for anything.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He had never meant to say it. The words had flown out of him, propelled by the last bit of hope he had, that one sliver that told him she felt what he felt. After all, she had kissed him back. Besides. There were other things. When she told him about her ex boyfriend. Sometimes, when she looked at him in a certain way and he thought- Maybe he was just imagining it. </p><p>But what if he wasn't. </p><p>“I didn’t mean for it to be a mistake.”</p><p>Donna's eyes went wide and she froze.  “What… what did you mean it to be” her voice was soft and her arms dropped. Her eyes wavered, flickered in tandem with the rusty light she had flicked on. He stared into them until he had to blink. He had to say something.</p><p>“I love you” It came out strained, not a brave manly declaration but a revelation of his most guarded secret, whispered in cold air . She sat down on the couch and did not say anything, but put her hand over her mouth; It must have been only a second but it felt to him like an eternity, every moment was 1000 moments, every gesture, 1000 gestures. He had a sudden feeling that he could not stand, could not remain upright because everything keeping him upright had just been knocked out of him. He was only slightly conscious of his body propelling him downwards to sit on the opposite end of the couch, neither facing the other, both wanting to. </p><p>“God Donna I’m so sorry. I never meant to,,,’ He did not want to say “ take advantage” that sounded too cruel but he could not think of another word for what had obviously been a gross misuse of power. God he could have been fired. And he would have deserved it too.  “You can transfer to Blake if-</p><p>She moved across the couch so quickly Josh had no time to react and held his face in her hands, looking into his eyes, pausing only for a second to see his eyes expand and his eyebrows go into his hair and his mouth open partially and then- </p><p>The second kiss was nothing like the first. Before it had been needy, impulsive. They had kissed as if they were dying for air, pushing and pulling, trying to drink each other in as fast as possible, uncertain as to if they would ever have the opportunity again. This time it was steady, peaceful, like waves lapping at the shore, kissing over and over again. Hazy thoughts came to Josh and then disappeared just as quickly. Her hair was so soft, he thought he might be running his fingers through it but he could not tell. Vaguely, He could feel the imprint of her chest on his, her hands on the back of his neck, the smell of her chapstick which was sweet and a bit sticky on his tongue. When she finally pulled away he could not tell if it had been minutes or hours, days or weeks. The pain of kissing someone when you are facing forwards and they have moved to your side and so you have to twist your neck a bit and then twist it down so that she can gain ground on the cushions she is kneeling on, that he had not noticed during the kiss now became apparent. He shifted, pushing himself fully onto the couch so that his legs hung off the edge and donna was curled on top of him. In turn she straddled him gently and went back to kissing him. </p><p>By the time they broke apart again the light had faded from the window completely. Josh could hear the sound of rain hitting the sidewalk and he shivered. The temperature had gone down as the sun had and Donna’s heater had not yet kicked in enough to notice the change. Donna rested on top of him, aimlessly running her fingers over his chest, swirling circles into his sweater. Something about her body on top of his felt so right; although he rolled his eyes at the cheesy thought as soon as it came into his head, he could not shake the feeling.</p><p>“How did you get here” her voice was sleepy but she smiled up at him when she asked.</p><p>“Drove”</p><p>“You’ll have to move your car soon”</p><p>She did not stop with the circles, but had begun to play with his hair in addition. He did not reply, still looking up at the ceiling but it was not out of malice. There was nothing to say. He did not need to draw out conversation just to keep her in the same room, not anymore. She was here, right here in his arms. He wouldn’t risk losing this feeling for anything.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This was originally only half a chapter (which is why its so short! sorry) but I decided to split the longer one into two so I could write with both Josh and Donna.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was later when she finally worked up the courage to say it. They had been lying on the couch for what seemed like days, kissing, then pausing to lie together, then kissing again for a bit, slowly, as if they had all the time in the world. She wanted to believe that they did but the calculated part of her, the part honed by a thousand late night strategy sessions and hallway conversations, told her better than that. </p>
<p>“Josh” her voice was heavy. He had to know what was coming. She knew him, he had to have been thinking it the whole time they were lying on the couch. She looked up at him, waiting for a response but his eyes were firmly drilled at the ceiling above them. He kept his gaze with the crack that ran on the edge of a wall as if it was of the utmost importance that he watch it, like it could break at any moment. </p>
<p>A part of her wanted him to speak, a larger part of her was glad he did not. She waited for him a little longer, then hoisted herself up and dusted off her sweater. He grabbed her hand impulsively, he could not stand for her to be gone for even a second. She turned back to see his eyes, wide and gentle and she bent down to kiss him again. She could not help it.  </p>
<p>“Are you hungry? I’m starving” Josh sprang up, giving her the smile he usually reserved for holidays and unexpectedly high polling numbers. His boyish charm overwhelmed her, It was Josh at his most joyous. “I could use some Chinese food is that place on your corner still open?” Her heart fell as he mentioned it although he was unfazed, picking up his jacket from the couch to put on. He stopped at the door, and looked back at her, realizing she had not moved and she could see the joy drip from his face in an instant . His smile slackened and his eyebrows dropped to a look of concern.</p>
<p>“You think it's safe to go out together?”</p>
<p>She did not want to bring it up, everything in her heart told her to let it go. Donna from 4 years ago would have not even thought about the possibility of a reporter on her doorstep, or the myriad ways the press could find out about what had happened between the two of them She was not stupid, she would have thought of the question, but she could have surpassed it to the back of the brain, in favor of mirroring Joshes optimism. “Yes of course i'm hungry she would say,” grabbing her coat from the hook and clasping his hand. But four years of Josh and Sam and Toby and CJ had taught her more than a degree at any university about politics ever could. She could remember what had happened with Laurie and Sam, how it almost derailed the administration. And she saw in her mind's eye what would happen, as she was sure he could too. They would date for a while in secret, convince themselves it was fine, that it was purely professional, until one day at work she would let something slip or he would and it would spill over. They would get careless, not bothering to go into each other's apartments separately, taking the same cars. And then Bam. a picture of Josh outside her apartment, handing her her keys. </p>
<p>“It's zero degrees out there's no reporters out there.” He smiled again but it was less convincing this time.</p>
<p>She looked down at her carpet, trying to hold back tears, Wanting so badly to say nothing, to let it slide just this once. </p>
<p>“Josh” Her voice came out cracked. “ We can't” </p>
<p>“I dont give a damn.” His voice was deeper than normal, quiet. She realized she had never heard this voice from him, hoarse yet resolute. He looked up at her, solemnly, right into her eyes, yet his demeanor was relaxed, hands in his pockets. “It’s my career Donna let me-” </p>
<p>“I have worked with you for 6 years Josh.” She could not stop the tears now, they were like pinpricks in the corners of her eyes, and she wished to hell she could stop arguing, stop fighting, give in. </p>
<p>“I have been in every single meeting about inappropriate intergovernmental affairs that you have. You saw what happened with Sam and Laurie and that isn’t half as bad-”</p>
<p>“I'll get you a job with Blake”  He looked desperate now and it only intensified her tears. This, him, was all she had wanted. Pages of her diary dedicated to the smallest moments, the lightest touch, and here, in a satirical twist of fate she was the heartbreaker, she was the one doing the breaking and the shattering and the ruining of everything. </p>
<p>He tried to come closer to her and she turned away. She could not look at him while she said her next words.</p>
<p>“An affair in which you procured job offers for me in exchange for sex? Everybody already thinks I only got the assistants job because you wanted to sleep with m-“</p>
<p>He was so close she could feel his breath on her neck, could feel his presence behind her but still she refused to turn around. She could not look at his face, she could already see what it looked like in her mind's eye, his light brown eyes looking down at her, his eyebrows furrowed; to see it in person seemed unbearable. </p>
<p>“You got the assistants job because you’re good at it- you deserve a promotion to Blake because you’re better than this, you’re smarter and politically adept, -” </p>
<p>“That's not the point”</p>
<p>“I know.” </p>
<p>He let out a sigh, turned away. He had stopped trying to convince her, had stopped feigning confidence.It felt strangely comforting, knowing he knew the inevitable as well as she did, that the next part might not have to be as hard. </p>
<p>“I know it isn't. You think I haven't thought about this, I have- I” </p>
<p>He stopped abruptly, turned away, to sit back on the couch, and she followed his movements. They sat, side by side, close but distinctly not touching. </p>
<p>Slowly she started to cry, silent tears that dripped down her cheeks to land on her hands in front of her. She stared down at the hands, watching the tears fall on top of them, hoping it wasn’t too obvious. She did not want to grab a tissue in fear of Josh noticing, and trying to help. The clock in her kitchen made a chirping sound, it was six o clock. When she finally glanced at Josh she saw that he was crying too.</p>
<p>He looked over at her, composing himself. Without a word he stood up, gathering himself, putting on his coat, walking to the door. This was for the best, this is what she wanted . For both of them. She could not go back to her being the failure of the Moss family, the university dropout. She had a career she loved, a nice apartment, good friends. She and Josh loved each other. That was enough for now. She told herself she did not need more, that she did not want more. If they dated and it did not work out- well then. It was better here, both of them with an idealized version of the other. No fighting, no turmoil. No risk. She closed the door behind her, then put her eye up to the peephole. He walked down the hall, turned to look back at the door, and then kept walking. She stayed, eye pressed to the glass for a minute longer, although she knew he would not pop into frame. Down below she could hear the start of a car, his or someone else's, and then the purr of the motor as it drove. She realized with a start that she had never said I love you back.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>my first fanfic done. it can only go up from here.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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